


Say my name

by adore_you



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, I really don't know what this is, M/M, Not betaed because my eyes are going to evaporate if I read this another time, Please spare me I'm new to this, barista!Soonyoung, too much cheese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 14:40:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adore_you/pseuds/adore_you
Summary: In which Soonyoung asks for Wonwoo's name, and he gets more than he expected.





	Say my name

**Author's Note:**

> LMAO WHAT IS A SUMMARY. This is my first fic, so please leave comments if you like it/have any criticism! I'll be really happy to know how to improve hehe

“One java chip frappe, to go please.”

 

Soonyoung almost keys in the wrong order as he fights the urge to stare at the customer’s face instead of the monitor. He collects the Starbucks card with shaking hands, taking two tries to swipe it properly.

 

“Thank you, can I have your name please?”

 

Jeon Wonwoo. He has to pretend he hasn’t already written this name a dozen times and memorised it like the back of his hand.

 

“Wonwoo. Thank you.”

 

The barista lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he passes the cup to Mingyu, and he slumps against the counter, trying to be subtle about the fact that leaning on it gave him a better view of the second-year literature student. “Soonyoung, you’re really fucking obvious, you know,” Mingyu mumbles as he prepares the drink Wonwoo ordered, “you look like you almost peed your pants just watching him walk in.”

 

Soonyoung groans. He knows he’s obvious and utterly whipped, but can he help it? Jeon Wonwoo, the handsome, mysterious boy, always seen with his nose buried in a novel, round-framed spectacles perched on his smooth nose bridge. With a face and brain like his, accompanied by a voice that’s silky and low, a body of perfect proportion, who wouldn’t swoon over him? Soonyoung is just worse at hiding it than others. 

 

“You’re staring.”

 

Soonyoung snaps up, ready to throw a snide remark at Mingyu when he realises he’s not talking to Mingyu.

 

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, and slowly moves his gaze to the cup that Soonyoung is holding. “That’s mine, right?”

 

“Y-yes! Sorry, that was rude,” Soonyoung squeaks, before thrusting the cup into the boy’s hand with a little too much force, “thank you! Enjoy your day, Wonwoo.”

 

“You too,” Wonwoo squints, “…Soonyoung.”

 

Soonyoung almost collapses.

 

Mingyu sighs at the older barista, who is standing at the serving counter, staring longingly at the door fifteen minutes after Wonwoo has left. “You’re gross, you know? Just ask him out already, I can’t take this pining nonsense.” Soonyoung sniffles and glares at him, “You're mean. He’s so out of my league, he’s like, a valedictorian, and I’m here, a mess.”

 

Mingyu scoffs, “Opposites attract.” Soonyoung throws a dishcloth at him.

 

There’s no real progress, not even when Soonyoung writes Wonwoo’s name another dozen times and stutters at him every time he passes over the drink, and raises his voice two octaves higher when he says goodbye. Except that one time Wonwoo smiled at him. Oh god, it was the best day of his _life_.

 

So when Soonyoung feels someone slide into the seat beside him in his Asian Economies lecture, he doesn’t expect it to be-

 

“Wonwoo?”

 

Said male grins, “Hey, Soonyoung. Saw you from the back and I was so relieved I know at least one person here. I hope you don’t mind me taking this seat?”

 

Soonyoung is too shocked to stutter, if that makes any sense. “I don’t. You’re taking this as an elective?”

 

Wonwoo nods, and when Soonyoung continues gaping at him, he laughs and presses his fingers against his cheek, turning his head to face the lecturer. “Focus on the lesson, Soonyoung, not on me.”

 

\

 

“He _what_?” Mingyu screeches at Soonyoung when the latter recounted the events from earlier in the day.

 

“He told me to listen to class and not look at him. Oh my god, he _knows,_ ” Soonyoung whimpers into his hands. “Of course he knows, you practically have a billboard with _I’m whipped for Jeon Wonwoo_ in neon lights over your head.” Soonyoung swats at the taller male, and continues drowning in misery. 

 

“Hello?” 

 

Mingyu jumps up at the customer’s voice, rushing over to the cashier. He stops when he identifies the guy across the counter, and slowly backs away, “Uh… Soonyoung. Can you take this order? I need the toilet.”

 

“Sure, fine, ditch me when I’m crying over my crush and ditch me at work. I’m not hurt at al- Wonwoo?”

 

The bespectacled boy laughs amusedly, “Are you alright? You said you were crying.”

 

Soonyoung wishes someone could slap him right now. “No! I’m fine. Totally. What would you like?”

 

“A java chip frappe. And your number, preferably. Is that considered a customisation?”

 

“Coming right up. Wait, _what_?” 

 

Wonwoo laughs harder this time, nose crinkling and eyes forming half crescents, and Soonyoung thinks he might want to take a picture of this sight and put it on his deathbed so it would be the last thing he sees before he dies.

 

“Your number. I think it would be nice if we could become friends, Soonyoung.” 

 

Soonyoung thinks he hears a muffled _Senpai noticed you!_ from the back kitchen, and he mentally takes note to kill Mingyu after this. “Y-yeah? Sure, Wonwoo, I would love to.” _Become friends. And maybe more._ Soonyoung tries to control his excitement, because he’s pretty sure he already looks like a puppy wagging his tail at Wonwoo.

 

“That’d be six dollars. No extra charge for my number, don’t worry!”

 

Soonyoung throws a nasty glare at the back kitchen door as he hurries to prepare Wonwoo’s drink, but when he turns around he smiles brightly. “I was thinking we could study together,” Wonwoo says, peeking over the coffee machine (and making Soonyoung’s heart do unnecessary somersaults), “I’m not really good at economics.” The latter grins, “ _The_ Jeon Wonwoo, not good at something? This is new.”

 

Said male chuckles and shakes his head, “I can’t do many things. Like, make good coffee. Or smile like you do.”

 

Soonyoung freezes, holding the carton of milk precariously over the cup.

 

“You know,” Wonwoo continues, pink tinging his cheeks, “like you steal some sunshine and put it on your face instead. It’s cute.”

 

\

 

Soonyoung tries really hard to focus on his lecture notes. He really does, trying to ignore the soft humming from across the table or the sweater sleeves snugly wrapped around Wonwoo’s knuckles. 

 

“Uhm, Soonyoung? I don’t really get this.”

 

“Huh?” 

 

“God, are you even studying?” Wonwoo says exasperatedly, but he’s smiling wide. “I can’t really focus," Soonyoung replies sheepishly, twiddling his thumbs, “it’s not my studying day today.” Wonwoo sighs, and then stretches, revealing a little bit of skin as his shirt rides up. Soonyoung forces himself to look away.

 

“Since we’re not getting much done, how about we go out for a little? I feel like watching a movie.”

 

Soonyoung stares at Wonwoo like he’s sprouted a pair of mushrooms on his head. “A-a movie? Like, just the two of us?”

 

Wonwoo offers a wry smile, “Yeah. Like a date.”

 

Soonyoung would’ve sent a hundred and two messages of incoherent blabbering to Mingyu already if not for the fact that he’s right beside Wonwoo as they walk to the cinema. The literature student had expressed interest in the newest action movie, and honestly, Soonyoung would watch literally anything as long as it's with Wonwoo. He can _almost_ hear Mingyu teasing him for being utterly whipped.

 

In the theatre, Soonyoung manages to calm his nerves, mostly because Wonwoo actually picked a good movie and he was genuinely excited about it instead of just being mindful that his crush is sitting beside him, in the dark, holding on to their popcorn and drink and muttering, “I can’t wait to see the movie” into his ear. He nods in reply, and leans back on his chair.

 

Halfway through the movie, Soonyoung gets a little hungry and he digs through the popcorn box lazily, eyes trained on the screen. It’s an exciting scene, a highway chase leaving behind a trail of accidents and flying cars, and the police is right on their tail, almost there, almost crashing-

 

Soonyoung promptly forgets everything that happens after that, because his fingers are suddenly surrounded by warmth. He looks at the popcorn box in between the two of them, and at Wonwoo’s fingers tangled in his. Of course this has to happen. Just like every Korean drama out there.

 

“Oops,” Wonwoo giggles (and still making Soonyoung’s heart do somersaults), “sorry.” The former retracts his hand, but Soonyoung doesn’t miss the smirk on his face, illuminated by the screen. He wills himself not to scream, or collapse, or anything else embarrassing, and turns back to the movie with a straight face (as straight as he can manage, and as straight as he’s _not_ ).

 

The movie ends with Soonyoung not catching anything after _the incident_ , but he’s generally satisfied. He knows it’s a good movie, because Wonwoo’s rattling off about how they filmed it so well and the acting was so natural and the graphics were amazing. Soonyoung doesn’t offer any input because anything that’s coming out of his mouth right now is probably  _yeah, it was great, and your hand was really warm, I loved it._

 

They stop by a ramen place after the movie, and Soonyoung slurps everything up hungrily (he didn’t eat any popcorn after the incident either), while Wonwoo picks at his food.

 

“Why aren’t you eating? Is the food bad?”

 

Wonwoo looks up at Soonyoung,” Hey, can I ask you something?”

 

The latter gives him a questioning gaze, slowly chewing.

 

“Just now, in the cinema, was that…. Was that not okay?”

 

Was _what_ not okay, is the question. The movie? The popcorn incident? Sharing a drink?

 

Soonyoung internally gulps. Oh right, they shared a drink. That means an indirect kiss. He wishes Mingyu would slap him for thinking of something so cringeworthy.

 

“Uhm… what?”

 

“You know,” Wonwoo murmurs, looking down at his uneaten noodles, “holding your hand, sort of.”

 

“You want to hold my hand?” Soonyoung retorts incredulously. He sounds (and _is_ ) way too surprised, as if human contact between Wonwoo and himself is impossible.

 

Wonwoo nods slowly, and looks at him again, this time with an more insecure and almost vulnerable look. “Did I not read the signals right? Are you… do you like me? Or not. I’m sorry, I’m so bad at this. I thought all those times you blushed at me and stuttered when we talked meant you were interested, I might have been overthinking-”

 

“No! You’re, no, it’s, yeah, I like you. A lot. Haha, shit,” Soonyoung blurts out, his mouth running at five miles per hour compared to his brain, which Mingyu often says is as slow as his grandma’s walking.

 

“Oh,” Wonwoo breathes, “that’s a relief. Because I like you too.” He bites his bottom lip to contain his massive smile, and Soonyoung feels like he might be disintegrating on the spot.

 

“You- wow, I’m- This is so unexpected. I thought this was a one-sided crush! You’re like, so _up there_ , you know? Like untouchable, high demand, and then there’s me.”

 

“ _Me_?" Wonwoo looks incredulous, “Are you serious? Look at you, and economics student, and you teach kids dance outside school, that’s so precious, oh wait, I wasn’t supposed to know that, never mind, and you’re like, the cutest thing to exist, your smile, _what_? You’re saying I’m up there, and you’re like, all the way up in the sky, like the fucking sun or something.” 

 

There’s a moment of silence as they stare at each other, then they burst out laughing, making the restaurant owner to frown at them.

 

“Okay,” Soonyoung laughs as he wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, “so we like each other, yeah?”

 

Wonwoo lets out a few breathless chuckles (Soonyoung’s heart! Somersaults!), and he reaches over to gently touch Soonyoung’s fingertips, “Yeah, be my boyfriend?”

 

If Soonyoung hadn’t already died, he’d be flying to heaven and beyond right now.

 

\

 

“God, Soonyoung, go there, stop, let me take the fucking order,” Mingyu groans, as he witnesses the scene of Wonwoo trying to ‘order’ Soonyoung. “Yeah, I get it, Wonwoo, you want your usual, which is your nasty boyfriend, now tell me what _coffee_ you want or I’ll throw you out and you can pine at him all you want through the glass window.”

 

“Alright then, I want a white mocha frappe, Soonyoung’s favourite,” Wonwoo starts, willing his laughing to stop, “and I want an extra topping of ten minutes to talk to my nasty boyfriend.”

 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Mingyu snaps, “you can take as long as you want, just get your gross faces out of this place.”

 

Soonyoung gleefully jumps into Wonwoo’s arms (Mingyu yells at them) and Wonwoo pecks his nose affectionately. “Hey you,” he breathes, in that same low, silky voice that Soonyoung fell in love with. He hums and presses his nose against Wonwoo’s, then their foreheads.

 

Then their lips, and Wonwoo knows this is his favourite taste, and it works better than any coffee he could ever drink.

 

“You _disgusting idiots_ , you said ten minutes of talking, not a truckload of PDA in the cafe! Now _get out!”_ Wonwoo lets out a bark of laughter, and grabs Soonyoung’s hand and his coffee, and they dash out before Mingyu throws a broom at them, and he squeals, “Wonwoo, slow down, I’m going to trip!”

 

Said male doesn’t stop, only looks back and throws a cheeky grin at him.

 

“ _Wonwoo!”_

 

He thinks he’ll never get tired of calling out his boyfriends name, regardless of the countless times he asks for it over the counter, and the number of times he murmurs it against his lips when they cuddle, and the number of times he writes in on Starbucks cups, with a small heart at the side (sometimes accompanied with a suffix of _baby_ just to annoy Mingyu) , just so he can call it out and let everyone know that yes, silly, clumsy, blumbering mess Kwon Soonyoung is boyfriends with attractive, smart, valedictorian-hopeful Jeon Wonwoo.


End file.
